


The Silence Before the Storm

by Swinky Swanks (SpobSpucci)



Category: One Piece
Genre: Drabble, Emotional Hurt, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 18:03:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15466983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpobSpucci/pseuds/Swinky%20Swanks
Summary: In the quiet moments before you know you're about to die, it is often said that you think back on your life, your regrets and rapture. The what ifs and the should haves. Your loved ones and the preservation of your own life.Though Noland can only seem to think and worry about an unlikely spark from six years ago, over his own life.





	The Silence Before the Storm

The metal tipped pen presses against the page for a moment, the ink of it bleeding onto the paper in a spidery blot. Unmoving, it retreats again accompanied by a heavy sigh. 

In the cold darkness of his holding cell, Noland can only find comfort in his log book. While the solid ground beneath his feet is unfamiliar and the lack of candlelight is disheartening, the salty spray from the voyage at least still lingers on his skin. That should be consolation enough, enough to make him forget where he is. To pretend he’s still sailing, or that he ever will again. 

Though it is not himself he worries for. It’s not for his wife, who he knows will be present when he’s set upon the scaffolding before the spears hungry for blood and ready to bury deep into his chest. It’s not for his youngest daughter, who he knows won’t be present for the affair. Who he knows will be asking “where did daddy go?” For years to come. 

No. He is occupied by the same man who has been invading his thoughts for six years now. The same man he worked so hard to see just once more, the man he regretted leaving all those years ago. The man who he knows existed in a time before. 

The worst part is, Noland can’t quite remember what he looks like anymore. 

He remembers bits and pieces of a whole, like the wild mane of hair and angular features. The tattoos, the muscled body. Noland knows this is what Calgara looked like once before but he can’t remember how the pieces fit together. How they form a coherent being that laughs like a first sunrise and has a smile brighter and more wicked than any god could. It’s like he remembers a still picture of what Calgara should look like, but he just can’t recall it correctly. 

This isn’t the first time Noland has acknowledged the fleeting memories. He had found himself doodling the other man to remember his face, in a desperate attempt to keep him alive in his mind always. Even now in his little darkened cell, Noland sketches an awful rendition of what he thinks his Calgara should look like. 

But he’ll never know, because Calgara is gone. Maybe he’s dead. Maybe then Noland will follow him. 

The pen tightens in his grip as he thinks of Shandia. An entire tribe of people, gone. The words on the page before him blur and he smiles bitterly. He can’t just pretend that Calgara is waiting for him on the island, that he’s going to sail back out any day now. He can’t just pretend that Calgara is still there. 

Noland’s head falter and he sinks, tears welling up and spilling onto the parchment pages. 

He’ll never remember what Calgara looks like, and the memories will only fade away with him. He can only hope to see his dear friend in the next life. And only now does he pray to the gods he’s never believed in, praying they exist so that he might see Calgara once more. To hear the Fire of Shandia, and to know that he’s safe. 

If only Noland could recall his face, or his voice. Perhaps then he could allow himself comfort in his final moments.

**Author's Note:**

> Just something written before bed, so I apologize for the length, but I hope you enjoyed nonetheless. Feedback is appreciated!


End file.
